


when you love somebody and bite your tongue all you get is a mouthful of blood

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, letters and stuff, lonely fucking tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wanted you to stay and you didn't. You took off, but you took the time to keep me posted. Call me sentimental."</p><p>Bruce snorts. "No one calls you that and gets away with it."</p><p>"Well...you could."</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you love somebody and bite your tongue all you get is a mouthful of blood

**Author's Note:**

> screeching about tony and bruce and BOYFRIENDS

Tony can't think of, like, a _good_ reason for Bruce to stick around -- _Because we're both dorks_ doesn't really have the greatest ring to it, and Tony has a lot here going for him. Bruce can't remember the last time things went his way --

_except maybe the time tony stark didn't die but what kind of miracle is that?_

In another series of really fucking useless attempts at getting his new best friend to stay right where he belongs which is, he pathetically and woefully insists, at Stark Tower in the lab tinkering away on things that are going to change the world because, hell, doing it once isn't really enough for Tony Stark -- Tony tries to _steal his things_ , which Bruce finds so quickly, Tony wonders if he is half blood-hound, or if maybe Fury shouldn't be recruiting him officially, too.

"I can't, Tony. I just...I just can't."

And after everything -- even the whole _I'm a danger to human fucking beings, Tony. My pulse rate is a time bomb. I am not good for you I could kill you and everyone around you_ \-- it's just the fact that, in the end, Bruce _can't stay._ And that's something Tony understands, more than anything else.

So he hugs him, because that is what BFF's do, he insists, and sends him on his way with a hefty sum of cash to burn through.

Odds are, he'll probably live off of that wad of Benjamins for the rest of his demure, sometimes-green life. 

 

Tony is not pouting. He is not bummed out that his new biffle took off with some of his cash that he reluctantly gave him and he is not sitting at the breakfast table, arms crossed and face drawn in a long, lonely loop that is practically dripping off his face.

He is not doing that. Not at all.

 

And Tony Stark does not have a crush on Bruce Banner because that is a fucking childish and _vile_ thing to suggest. He hasn't had a crush on someone since middle school, and he was an assertive little shit back then, too. What Tony Stark wants, he gets -- just not _this_. 

So when the first post card comes in, from a man named B. Verde, it'd probably be an understatement to say he's excited.

Or that he's feeling like it's a _real_ birthday. 

Or something like that.

The message is short -- _walked along the beach in jakarta today. saw a shirt with your face on it. don't get too cocky._ \-- but hell, it's something.

 

It's more than something.

It's what's keeping him going.

 

Another one a few weeks later, this time longer -- _thought i lost it today, but something kept me from going there. probably the music, there was music next door. you'd have hated it, not your style at all. but the music did it. i think._

 

Tony hums songs he thinks Bruce might be hearing.

They aren't close at all, but it's a nice thought.

 

Six more post cards. A few more months.

 

Radio silence from the other side of the world.

 

Tony Stark is a mess -- 

\-- _understatement_.

 

And then there's a stupid physicist on his doorstep, something gross and resembling a sack of potatoes slung over his shoulder and he should probably have shaved before coming over but whatever.

"I was expecting this, actually," Tony says, pouring two scotches. "Like really. Expecting it."

"Not surprising." Bruce pulls the cash out of his wallet. "I only--"

"I gave that to you. Why didn't you spend it on hookers and blow?"

"Because I bought a fake passport with it instead and then I bought a clean med kit and a bottle of Diet Sprite in Cambodia. Sue me."

"Gladly, and with full force." Bruce laughs. "Cheers," Tony adds, and that's the end of that.

 

Bruce happily skips ahead to the part where he teaches Tony how to get him off slow and steady because fuck if it isn't awkward to lose it with a boner. 

 

"I hear your boyfriend's back in town," Clint tosses over his shoulder. Tony flips him the bird, two thumbs up, and then bows. 

It's been a good week.

 

"You kept these?" Bruce unearths the postcards from some lonely spot in the kitchen.

"I keep all my love letters. There's probably something from Suzy Minzin in there, fourth grade, three rows back. Wore her uniform skirt too short. The nuns were always mad.

"Why is Catholic school, like, _not_ surprising? At all?"

"All bad boys go to Catholic school. Bad boy protocol," Tony says. He's attempting to make chocolate chip pancakes. It isn't working. 

"Pepper says no cooking."

"Pepper isn't here."

"Not an excuse." Bruce takes the spatula away and put the awful pancake out of its misery before finishing it all up himself. "But you kept them."

"Obviously. Is there something in these? Like, am I going to die?"

"Why?"

"I like being alive. Lots of reasons--"

"Why'd you keep them?" Bruce turns another pancake over, swats Tony's hand away from the chocolate chips. Tony lifts himself onto the counter, swinging his legs like a two year old. Bruce pours more batter.

"I wanted you to stay and you didn't. You took off, but you took the time to keep me posted. Call me sentimental."

Bruce snorts. "No one calls you that and gets away with it."

"Well..." Tony reaches over and snags a handful of chocolate and spins off the counter. "You could."


End file.
